


Listen to Me

by Ton (tonkatsupls)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Complete, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Face-Fucking, Fomortiis was also involved, Hypnotism, M/M, Magic was involved, as Lyons do, because yes Lyon did just blueball himself, featuring Lyon being a disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-05 15:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21210896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonkatsupls/pseuds/Ton
Summary: Lyon only wanted to try something to help Ephraim focus, but... he ended up getting sidetracked.





	1. First you plant the seed...

**Author's Note:**

> Emotional support hypnosis in my time of stress. This came suddenly and unplanned. Will probably write a part 2 to this at some point.

Lyon wrings his hands together on his lap. "Ephraim, are you certain about this?"

His companion waves a hand, propping his elbow on the open-book before him. "It's just a bit of magic. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Well, that's not completely accurate..." Lyon mumbles. "I won't even be using any magic. Really, it's just a method to relax your mind and body in a way that would allow me to communicate with your subconscious and-"

"Lyon."

Lyon draws a breath. He is certain that Ephraim himself does not truly notice the command in his voice, how easily one is drawn towards the assuredness and confidence that his friend always carries himself with. He raises his eyes, purple meeting aquamarine. Ephraim smiles at him, and Lyon can feel his breath cling to his chest.

"Whatever it was that you suggested, just do it," Ephraim's voice sounds almost amused as he tilts his head towards the book. "So long as it truly does help me focus, then it can only benefit me. And even if it doesn't, well, what's the harm?" His eyes shine, so clear and piercing. "I trust you."

_I trust you._

Like a popped bubble, Lyon feels as if something bursts inside him, splattering around him in drops. He takes another breath. "All right." Lyon leans slightly forward in his chair, his hand outstretched. "Give me your hand then, Ephraim."

Ephraim quirks a brow, but he straightens up in his chair nonetheless. He lays his hand flat against Lyon's palm, his own palm face down as if in a handshake. Lyon raises his other hand, curling his fingers until his pointer finger hovers on the back of Ephraim's hand.

"I'm gonna move my finger across your hand, all right?" Lyon presses his finger gently on Ephraim's hand, Ephraim's rough skin a contrast to his smoother own. "Breathe in when I touch your wrist... " Lyon moves his finger down to Ephraim's wrist. "And out when I reach your knuckle." He drags the digit down from Ephraim's wrist to his knuckle. "Simple, yes?" Ephraim nods as Lyon repeats the motion. He watches as Ephraim's chest, broad and covered by a light tunic, rises and falls in tandem with his movements.

"Uh-huh, just like that," Lyon racks his brain as he thinks of the next steps. He understands the principle in theory, but using it in practice- on _Ephraim_, no less- is another thing entirely. "Now close your eyes.. and focus on my voice."

Something twists in Lyon as he watches Ephraim dutifully follow his instructions. Ephraim always did what he wanted- why, it was already a shock that he agreed to follow Lyon's suggestion. It wasn't as if Lyon had asked him for a match, and yet here Ephraim was, sitting quietly and hanging on to every word that Lyon was saying. It truly was a rare sight indeed for Ephraim to do what he was told, no questions asked. Lyon takes a moment to swallow.

"You're doing really well Ephraim..." Lyon's voice is low as he tries to keep an even rhythm. "As you breathe, I want you to feel more relaxed. Don't even think about the reading, or our lessons... Pretend that you've just finished sparring, that you're sinking in your chair like how you'd sink into the ground after a good workout..."

"If you say so..." Even as Ephraim speaks, his form slouches, the tension that keeps his form so rigid, so straight, so true, rolling out of him. Truly, it's almost as if Lyon truly _was _using magic.

_Such a dangerous technique,_ he thinks to himself as he continues. "I'm going to count backwards from ten... The closer I get to one, the more I want you to sink deeper into relaxation. Is that all right, Ephraim?" His friend nods slowly, slower than Lyon had ever seen him do so before. "Okay... ten..."

Lyon almost enters a trance himself, with the way that Ephraim sinks deeper and deeper into his chair, his head bobbing as he struggles to hold it up. He has never seen Ephraim with his guard down so low, and all at his bidding too. "Three... two..." Lyon feels himself slow down along with his counting, his finger only lightly trailing over the other man's skin.

"One."

With a tap on his wrist, Ephraim's head falls onto his chest. Lyon lifts off his finger, but he does not retract his hand.

"Can you still hear me, Ephraim?"

Ephraim mumbles, a low "yes" rolling off his tongue. Lyon nods to himself.

"That's good... Just focus on this relaxed feeling, okay? Notice how calm you feel, how peaceful it is here... Let that feeling fill you up, reach every nook and cranny..." A slight smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Eirika and Father McGregor aren't here to scold you... It's just the two of us here, in this library... You can just... relax."

"Mm..." Lyon bites the bottom of his lip as the rise and fall of Ephraim's chest slows. Despite his words, Lyon can't quite say that he himself is relaxed. Instead, he absentmindedly brings his free hand over to Ephraim's head, his fingers threading into his friend's teal locks.

"That feels nice, doesn't it Ephraim...?" Lyon murmurs as he strokes Ephraim's hair. Ephraim makes a noise, a pleased hum vibrating in the still air. Lyon chuckles. Like this, Ephraim is akin to a dog, so placid and obedient under his owner's touch. "Uh-huh... See, what's happened now is that you're relaxed, Ephraim... So relaxed that you’ve become particularly receptive to what I say... Anything that I say will embed itself onto your subconscious, permanently..."

_Permanently._

That single word sends a spark through Lyon's body. Lyon hardly notices how he shudders, how his hand pauses in his ministrations.

"Ephraim..." Lyon's voice hardly rises above a whisper. His heart hammers in his chest, the sound of it louder than anything else in the room. "Ephraim... Tell me, do you trust me?"

"Of course.” The answer, though slurred, is clear. Lyon gulps.

"And would you... do as I ask?"

"Naturally..." 

Such an easy answer.

Lyon's fingers untangle themselves from his hair. They travel down, his fingers tracing the contours of Ephraim's face- of the strong, set face that he so admires- before finally cupping his cheek. "Remember this feeling, then, Ephraim." Lyon hardly recognizes the sound of his own voice, nor does he recognize the mist that gathers at the palm of his hand, or the warmth that pools down below. "Remember how nice it feels like this, when you listen to me... How _easy_ it is to listen to me, to do everything that I say..."

_You shouldn't be doing this._ Yet Lyon can hardly recall what he was doing this for. Ephraim himself said that there was no harm in this, that he trusted him, so naturally it was okay that he could-

_You shouldn't be doing this._

Lyon's fingers tense slightly against Ephraim's cheek. "I'm going to count back down from ten, okay?" He tries to keep his voice even, to keep himself from jolting Ephraim out of his trance. "And on one, I want you to feel refreshed, like you woke up from a nap, and energized, like you can do anything you set your mind to..." _Not like Ephraim's ever had any problems with that_, a treacherous voice chirps in the back of his mind. Lyon shakes his head. _Focus._

And yet...

"A-and..." Lyon's voice quivers. "I want you to not think of what I've said. I want you to push my words to the back of your head, but don't... don't forget them. I want you to remember this feeling, this nice pleasant feeling, every time you do as I say. Every time you think of doing as I say." Lyon averts his gaze away from Ephraim's face. "Can you do that for me, Ephraim?"

He feels Ephraim nod against his hand. Lyon takes a deep breath. He knows that he's a coward, that this is underhanded, that already he can feel the shame build up inside him for the tightness in his trousers. "Then... ten..."

_But you didn't ask him to do anything bad, did you?_ The voice slithers across his brain. _It's not like you asked him to commit any crimes. At worst, he'll feel happy when you ask him to do something and he listens. That's not so bad, is it?_

_Is it?_

Lyon mouths the word "one" before he can answer his own question, retracting his hand as he turns back to see Ephraim lift his head up, the other youth's eyes fluttering open as he blinks back into wakefulness.

"How do you feel?" Lyon asks weakly, trying to force a smile as he shifts into his seat, folding his hands a little bit below his stomach.

"Amazing, actually!" Ephraim stretches his arms up as he speaks. "I'm still not sure what exactly you did, but I feel better than ever!"

"Is that so? I'm glad, then." Lyon rises abruptly, turning before Ephraim can take a good look at him. "I'm gonna head to the kitchens to grab a snack."

"I'll go with you."

Lyon is already shaking his head at the expected invitation. "No, I'll be fine on my own... Besides, you still have quite a bit of reading to do. Just stay put, okay Ephraim?"

"I..." To Lyon's surprise, Ephraim merely sighs. "All right, if you say so Lyon."

Lyon nods tersely in response. He forces to walk normally across the great length of the library, which seems to stretch on and on forever. The moment he shuts the door behind him, he slumps to the ground, a groan escaping his lips.

What has he done?


	2. ...Then you watch it rot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My hand slipped. Takes place during River of Regret, in a loosely canon-compliant kind of way.

_"Lyon is dead."_

Ephraim spurs his steed as fast as he is able. Blood roars through his head, his eyes scanning wildly through the forests near the Narube River. _Where is he?_The orange of the fading sun streaks the green that blurs his vision. Though magic is not his forte, Ephraim hopes that his target did not teleport too far._ Where is that damned Demon King?_

He had figured something was odd with Lyon. The Lyon he knew would have never spoken so cruelly, would have never started such a senseless war or slaughter so many people. He and his sister's friend was a gentle soul, one far too kind for his own good; his dreams were filled with peace for all, not ceaseless violence. Lyon is no demon, and so it came as no surprise (not to mention an immense relief), that the monster they were fighting is not Lyon at all. 

_"You should follow me," _the monster parading in Lyon's flesh had sneered. _"If you've the strength to defeat me, that is..."_

Fomortiis, the Demon King of old... For him to have his friend in his clutches... Ephraim's tightens his grip on his reigns. He would ensure a messy end to its sorry life.

A flash of purple catches the corner of Ephraim's eyes. Swiftly, Ephraim changes direction to pursue it.

_Wait for me Lyon, _Ephraim thinks as he rides on. _I'll save you._

* * *

Lyon simply bides his time in the forest clearing. He scans the trees with a neutral, almost bored, gaze as he awaits the thunderous charge of the one he knows so well.

Ephraim isn't one to ignore a challenge, especially not when he was goaded into one. His friend had always been exceedingly simple. Charging ahead at whatever caught his fancy... he was no different than a wild animal in that regard, with how prone he is to following his instincts. To anyone else, such reckless behavior is an indication of sheer foolishness. For Ephraim, however, it serves only as a mark of his brilliance.

But no matter. Things are different now. _Lyon _is different now.

Soon enough, the familiar blue form of Ephraim blazes through the forest, red cape billowing behind in waves as his horse thunders towards him. Lyon grins as he flicks open his tome. Violet fog emerges from the ground beneath Ephraim's horse, seeping into its white skin. Lyon merely watches as the horse bucks, whinnying as madness seeps into its eyes.

The horse bucks wildly, with enough force to unseat even Ephraim.

Lyon practically roars in laughter as the horse runs off, leaving its owner on the ground. "For you to have followed me so quickly..." Lyon remarks as he walks towards Ephraim. "You are an even bigger fool than I thought."

Ephraim does not even grace him with an answer, but rather he reaches for his lance as expected. Even then, Lyon merely waves his hand, a pentagram manifesting itself below Ephraim. 

Electricity courses through Lyon's figure as he watches Ephraim squirm on the ground below. A savage smile meets a scowl as Ephraim lifts his head up. "What did you do to me, you fiend?!"

"Are you so dull that you can't figure it out yourself?" Lyon retorts as he kneels down to take a better look at his adversary. "Perhaps more than a jester, you would make a better pet."

"I would sooner kill you!" Ephraim snarls. Lyon can only quirk a brow. 

"Do you truly have what it takes to destroy your precious friend's body?"

Lyon knows it was an underhanded move. How is Ephraim to know that he and the Demon King are one and the same? That this is all but a mere act, a show of power that _Lyon_ could never display, but only the _Demon King_ could? Something prickles at his chest, but more than that, he relishes in the fury that burns in Ephraim's eyes. 

"Release him." Ephraim's voice is filled with nothing but vehemence. "Release Lyon now."

Ephraim truly is so simple.

Lyon holds Ephraim's gaze. How many times must he repeat himself? "Lyon" is dead. No longer is he the same weakling that he was before. No longer is he the specter that clung to the twins' radiance, desperate for even a sliver of their radiance. He has found his own way to power, his own way to protect what he loves. 

And yet...

"All right." Lyon arranges his face to be as still as possible, so as to not betray the idea that has taken root in his head. "I will."

* * *

Ephraim feels the oppressive force that locks him in place recede, feeling coming back to his numb form. He watches as the Demon King- no, Lyon- wobbles in front of him.

"Lyon!" Ephraim exclaims as he scrambles to get up. He lunges forward, catching Lyon's body before he falls. "Lyon!"

"Ephraim...?" Small and pained that it is, Ephraim hears Lyon's voice loud and clear. "Ephraim, is that...?"

Lyon coughs, a wretched sound that tears at Ephraim's heart. "Lyon, hold on!" He glances back at the way he came, calculating the distance on foot. "I'll get you to a healer. L'arachel, she can-!"

"Ephraim."

That sole word stops Ephraim in his tracks. He glances back, and to his horror, Lyon seems paler than before. "Ephraim, listen to me... I need you to..."

Lyon shudders again. Ephraim's grip on him tightens. _I refuse to lose him again! _"Anything, Lyon, just tell me what it is I need to do!"

"Would you..." Even with Lyon so near, the mage's voice sounds strangely distant. "Would you really... do as I ask?"

The words flicker at the back of Ephraim's head, and yet he cannot linger in the thought given the direness of the situation before him. "Naturally."

"Then..." Ephraim feels the familiar warmth of Lyon's palm on his cheek. "Get down on all fours."

Ephraim furrows his brow at the unusual request. How in the Stones' name was that suppose to help Lyon? _You gave him your word,_ a voice whispers. _You said you'd do as he asks. _Ephraim slackens his grip. 

"I trust that you know what you're doing with this, Lyon..." Ephraim gently sets his friend down. He shuffles into position. The moment he does so, he feels the tension roll off his shoulders, as if a heavy weight was lifted off him. All the questions that he wants to ask washes through his mind, refusing to take hold.

Ephraim glances at Lyon, who now stands over him, as he awaits further instructions.

Lyon looks down at him, his lavender gaze inscrutable. "Are you aware, Ephraim, that you are known as the Beast of Renais?" Lyon spoke clearly, his voice filling the forest clearing. "For the Beast of Renais to be down on his knees like a common dog... I must say, you did well to follow your orders."

Ephraim opens his mouth, only to close it when he feels Lyon's fingers thread through his hair. His touch is soft, gentle, almost exactly as he remembers it... More than nostalgic, it's comforting really. 

He hears Lyon shuffle around in his robes with his free hand. Lyon tugs at the waistband of his trousers, bringing it and his smallclothes down, revealing an erect cock. Yet Lyon's cock is nothing like Ephraim had ever imagined it to be- his is deep purple, ridges running along his shaft, Lyon's hand holding it so that the pointed tip was aimed towards Ephraim's face.

Lyon tugs at his hair, gently tilting his head up. "Take me in," he states bluntly, yet with a voice as sweet as honey. "Can you do that for me, Ephraim?"

Ephraim's mouth was open before he could even process what Lyon was asking of him.

His eyes widen as Lyon shoves his dick inside him. He gags, not only from taking all of Lyon at once, but from the flurry of sensations that assault him all at once. Lyon's dick is far too smooth, far too slick, far too _heated_ than humanly possible, but despite it all, Ephraim feels as if every part of him is abuzz with _joy_.

Through eyes that he's struggling to keep open, Ephraim tries to look at Lyon. His friend's face is flushed red, eyes half-lidded as thrust into Ephraim.

"E-Ephraim..." Lyon's pants are ragged, his voice almost worshipful. "Ephraim..."

Each call of his name, each breath that Lyon struggles to take in only serves to stoke the flames inside Ephraim. The heat threatens to overtake him, turning his mind hazy and foggy, filled with nothing but Lyon and how _he_ was the reason why his friend is like that. 

Even when Lyon pulls out to hold his cock in front of him, Ephraim only leans forward, dutifully licking along Lyon's shaft, running over every ridge, flicking around the tip. He could hardly care for the spit that clings to the sides of his mouth, or of the bitterness that lingers on his tongue-

"Ephraim, you're..." Lyon takes a moment to stroke himself, his member growing even more in his hand. "You're doing so well..."

-not when Lyon is praising him, not when it is so _easy _to do as he asks.

Lyon tugs at his hair, and Ephraim finds himself once more filled with nothing else but Lyon. He feels Lyon tighten his grip on his head, his thrusts more erratic than last time, more impatient. He buries himself deeper and deeper into Ephraim, and Ephraim finds himself pawing at the grass, dirt caking his fingertips as the heat in him grows and grows, threatening to burst...

With a sharp cry, Lyon abruptly yanks Ephraim's head away as he pulls out, and Ephraim finally closes his eyes as Lyon finishes on him.

When Ephraim opens his eyes again, he glares at Lyon, his blood turning into ice.

"What..." Even with the hoarseness of his voice, Ephraim forces himself to speak. "Have you done to Lyon?"

"I already told you," Lyon- no, the Demon King's voice- was quiet. "I devoured him. Lyon is gone."

Ephraim lunges, but he meets nothing but thin air.

* * *

_Isn't that what you wanted? The prince of Renais, on his knees before you?_

Lyon leans back on the tree. He folds his hands above his stomach, closing his eyes as he does so.

He doesn't know how many times he's replayed the scene in his head. Even now, he etches Ephraim's expressions in his brain. Eyes wide open in concern, his arms wrapped around him, his voice desperate as he called out his name, oblivious to the fog that wrapped around him...

In hindsight, Lyon should've tried to take the Sacred Stone of Renais from him. One of the twins had to be the one guarding it, and while both were more than capable, there was no denying that Ephraim was the better warrior. It would only make sense for Ephraim to be the one tasked with protecting one of their last hopes of defeating him.

And yet the thought hadn't occurred to him at all.

_You could've made him do more than that, you know..._

No matter. He would simply have to retrieve the stone next time they met. While it wasn't as if time was a luxury to him, he had no question that he had not seen the last of his dear friend.

His friend...

Lyon presses himself against the tree. There was truly no more coming back from what he's done. To oppose the Renaisian twins was one thing, but to actually manage to play out one of his twisted fantasies with one of them... He chuckles, mirthless and short.

"Hurry up, Ephraim," Lyon murmurs. "I can't wait any longer."


End file.
